CD - Alex the Kid
by CalicoDiamond9
Summary: Originally written for a friend. Alex is the youngest Mercer and his older brothers love him. But none of them take too kindly to his antics, especially sneaking off in the middle of the night. Warning: Spanking of minor and lots of language (it is Four Brothers, after all). So, proceed with caution.


**Alex the Kid**

I place my right foot carefully on the landing of the stairway on our house. I made it up, thankfully, but it's a doozy. I figured it out for midnight snacks and scaring Jerry. Silence is deadly and he always hates me sneaking up on him.

Yeah, good times had by all.

Anyway, there's a pattern with the stairs, because they're old. Not like paisley, or diamonds. No. You have to step carefully on each one. Not in the middle. Or the edges. Or even on every other. You go: middle, sides, left, left, skip, right, middle, skip, skip, right, middle, middle, middle, right, left.

Whew.

I bring my left foot to join the first, sneaking towards by room when I hear a loud laugh, Jack's deep laugh. It echoes from the dinning room. It should be reassuring, but it still makes my heart near jump out of my chest. It's scary, man! I pause, waiting, but their conversation continues and I walk forward.

The hallway is dark, almost pitch black and I'm super tired. It's like a haze of sleep is hanging over me. I quickly stumble forward, eyes widened and alert and hands feeling my way forward. I finally feel the cool of a brass doorknob beneath my fingers and I smile.

Mission impossible, status: accomplished. Heck yeah. I grab the doorknob to my room, turning it quietly and flip on the light. Oh shit. Not my room. I look at the scene before me. The strange, disgusting scene before me.

It looks like it's straight from a porn magazine. Angel maniacally humps Sofi, who's leaning backwards off the bed. It some kind of contortion-dance. I mean, I know what it is, and this sure as hell isn't my room, but what on earth?! My eyes widen.

Angel swirls, mid motion. "What the fuck you think you're doin', boy?" He cries in outrage.

I gasp, "Uh-uh…"

Then I slam the door closed, turning on my heel to plunge down the stairs. Fight or flight? Flight, definitely. It's a bad idea, of course, but it's worse to stay upstairs. I figure Angel will have to extricate himself. And probably find some pants; that would be nice too. I've had enough nudity to last me for a long time.

"Boy!" I hear Angel open the door of the bedroom. He stumbles a bit, as if searching for something. "I'm gonna whip your ass so hard…" Crap, crap, crap.

I run down the stairs, propelling myself with my arms and skipping the last few steps to turn towards the dinning room. "Bobby!" I shout.

"Chico, ¿qué has hecho?!" Sofi exclaims from above, shouting profanities into the air as she and Angel scramble in his bedroom.

"Alex?" Bobby's calls from the dinning room. I hear the scrape of chairs and the sound of heavy footsteps moving toward me.

"Bobby!" I yell again, skidding into the dinning room.

My heart beats loudly as I run forward and I hear Angel pounding down after me and a Spanish woman shrieking behind him. Jack and Bobby are standing, beers and their lively conversation long forgotten. Jack raises his eyebrows and I race towards them, grabbing Bobby. I jump behind him, wrestling my oldest brother so he won't turn around.

He grabs my wrist, pulling me forward.

"What the hell is this?"

"I, uh, I went in, ya know? It wasn't normal. And they-I…"

Then Angel materializes. I am in deep shit. Majorly deep shit.

But I feel like laughing. That nervous, I'm stupid as fuck laugh. So I just give him a nervous grin.

"The fucking little shit just decided to show up. My room, Alex, my room!" Angel growls, eyes flinty.

He's holding a towel over his lower half. Pointy and all. And he looks pissed. In fact, he's practically emitting plumes of red-hot pissed older brother. I hear a string of loud Spanish and Sofi appears behind him, holding his shoulder and dressed in one of his long button downs.

"What the fuck, man?" Bobby laughs, glancing between us. At least he thinks this is funny.

"You know, that's not much to go on…" Jack adds.

"Shut the fuck up, Jack." Angel glares at him. Jack snorts, holding his hands up in surrender and I try to pull my arm free of Bobby's grasp, but I only get a hard jerk as his fingers tighten.

"You not think?" Sofi exclaims, breaking off into more distressed, foreign words. I look at her apologetically, pushing myself back towards the table. Bobby grapples with me to pull next to him. I look up at Jack, but he looks just as confused as everyone else.

"How about the little shit tell you. Huh? He makes a fucking stupid decision, might as well own up to it." Angel's eyes glint dangerously.

Bobby pulls me forward further. And I gulp. "Okay. Talk, kid." He looks down at me.

I clench my jaw firmly. I mean, how the hell am I supposed to explain this? You know me, sneaking out and then walking in on the fucking Cirque de Soleil. Just great.

"Boy, you best start talkin'." Angel threatens.

Bobby squeezes my arm. "Talk."

I shrug. "It was dark. How was I supposed to know which room was mine?"

"Because yours' is on the fucking left!" Angel exclaims.

"I-I didn't know."

"Alright, alright." Bobby releases my arm and Angel lunges forward before being blocked by Bobby. I grab at the back of Bobby to use him as a shield.

"Hey. Hey!" We all look at him. "I get it. I do. Alex."

He pulls me forward again, standing me in front of him. I lean away from Angel. "Don't go in other's people's space. Especially not when Angel's when he's busy with La Vida." He has a smirk on his face as he mimicks a bad Spanish accent.

"Shut up, Bobby! Don't start that crap again!" Sofi looks at Bobby, pointing her finger at him.

I look at Bobby's face. His gloating happiness is apparent. If I had his audacity… I'd probable wish I didn't, come to think of it. I glance at Jack, who is trying not to laugh.

"Man," Angel says, his anger lessening. "Don't go there, she ain't no La Vida Loca and ain't standing here listening to your shit."

Bobby laughed. "We just love seein' you happy, man. Must've been great, huh?" Bobby and Jack exchange looks, and Bobby smiles. He holds his hands up to his heart and mocks her in Spanish, trying to look hurt.

Sofi glares at my oldest brother. "Stop it!" She yells and then turns to Angel, moving her hands around and up onto his shoulders. "Baby, I'm going upstairs." Angel nods, leaning into her kiss and Sofi turns and walks away.

One down for the count. Three to go.

"Okay, okay." Bobby laughs, looking back at me. "No shit though, little man, right?"

I nod. Bobby cuffs the back of my head. I rub at it, my gaze now fixed on his serious face.

"Talk with your damn mouth."

I look at Angel, standing only a few feet away from me. "I won't go into your room, Angel. I'm sorry."

Bobby nods. "There you go. See? He's sorry."

Angel huffs again. "You'd sure as hell better not, child, or I will beat your ass." He points at me.

I nod again, easing back to Bobby.

"And I won't stop him." Bobby adds, his face serious. "A man's gotta have his fun, after all." He looks back at Angel.

My second oldest brother groans. "Man, why the hell you gotta do this? I got a mad woman upstairs because of you two. Damn." He shakes his head.

"Angel, we're all behind you." Bobby winks at him. "But man, you better you finish up or something, I can't talk to you straight with your dick in my face." He laughs loudly.

Jack bursts as well, his composure shot to shit. And I can't help but grin. Angel purses his lips angrily and makes as if he's going to reply, but upon looking down at himself, he seems to think better of it. He switches hands the hold the small towel in place and turn to follow after his girlfriend up the stairs, gesturing rudely at the three of us. But we just laugh.

Bobby claps me on the shoulder, still chuckling. "You really walk in on them?"

I shrug.

"Whew!" He laughs again, shaking his head and swiping a hand over his eye.

He grabs the back of his chair, pulling it out and dropping into it. He rests his hand on the table, still smiling. Jack chuckles as he walks around the table to sit down in his former seat.

"Why're you still up? Couldn't sleep?" Jack asks with a smile, taking a swig of his beer.

I tense as I feel Bobby stop smiling. I can't see his face, but I can just tell. The way the man's shoulders drop into a hard, straight line. And the almost palpable feeling of forming anger coming off him. He turns, resting his arm on the back of his chair and fixing me with a look.

"He asked you a question. And personally, I'm dying to know too." Sarcasm is never a good sign.

I finger the hem of my sweatshirt, avoiding both my brother's gazes. "I'm just awake. That's all." I mutter.

Jack shakes his head and takes another drink.

Bobby glances behind me at the clock on the wall. "It's three-fucking-a.m. What the hell were you doing up? Did I say you could get up?"

I shake my head quickly.

"Are we doin' this again?" Bobby asked in frustration, a hard edge creeping into his voice. "Because I might just smack your ass myself. You have a voice box; use it."

"Yes." I reply. "I mean no. No, I shouldn't be up."

He nods. "Uh huh."

I swallow hard, working up my courage. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. I was just— you know— I still have my clothes on."

Bobby's eyes narrow into slits. I glance at Jack, a pleading look plastered in place. No such luck. He only raises his eyebrows again, looking towards Bobby. Thanks, man, I owe you one… not. I look back at Bobby.

"Were you outside?" His voice is quiet. Another bad sign on the list of Bobby Mercer mannerisms. I don't know how the hell I know that, but it probably isn't good that I do. Or maybe it is.

"No…"

"Then why the fuck do you have your clothes on?! It's past midnight!"

"I just—"

"Don't lie to me, Alex." Bobby points at me. "I'm not gonna put up with this bullshit. You answer me and don't fucking lie."

I sigh, shifting the weight on my feet. "Yeah."

"Yeah what?"

"I was outside."

"What the hell were you doing?" He thunders. "Snorting shit? Running around flashing people?"

"No!"

"Getting drunk with your little friends?"

"No! Bobby I wasn't! I swear."

He huffs. "I'm not gonna ask you again. What the fuck were you doing outside?"

"Walking home?" I take a deep breath, letting my shirt go and glancing into his eyes.

"Is that a question?"

"N-no. It isn't. Wasn't." I take another deep breath. "I _was_ walking home."

"From where?"

"Do I have to—"

"Yes you have to fucking tell me." Bobby gives me a look. "My little brother's walking around the fucking streets of Detroit whenever the hell he pleases and you don't think I wanna know?"

I gulp.

"Are you high?" He asks. I pull back in surprise.

"What? No. No, I'm not high, Bobby!" I say.

He looks me over before saying: "You'd better not be. So, what were you doing?"

"I was just out. Just walking." I reply carefully.

Bobby stands with his hands crossed at his chest. I take a tentative step back, his presence suddenly threatening. "Just walking? Where? You making little figure eights in the backyard?"

"No."

"I said no lying to me, Alex. Stop the fuckin' lying to me." He growls.

"I was at Daniel's."

"Who the hell is Daniel?" Jack asks from across the table. I keep my gaze on Bobby who just snorts in agreement.

"A friend… from school."

"What were you doing at his house?" Bobby shifts his weight in annoyance.

I shrug. "Just hangin'."

"Oh good. You hear that, Jack?" Bobby turns to our brother with a sarcastic and forced smile on his face, gesturing to me. "They were just hangin'. Nothin' to worry about." He turns back to me, his gaze hard. "Except it's three in the fucking morning!"

I keep quiet, looking between the wall and the table.

"Don't' lie to me again, or I swear I will beat your ass." Bobby threatens. "What were you doing? If you were just hanging, why the hell did you need to sneak off?"

"Bobby…" Jack begins as he leans forward.

"Shut the fuck up, Jack." Bobby replied without taking his eyes off me. I hate it when he does that. "Tell me."

I shrug, not meeting his eyes.

"I couldn't sleep, neither could he. Daniel. And, uhm, I just went over there. He only lives a few blocks away. We played some cards, talked, you know. I lost track of time."

"Damn." Bobby said, running his hand down his face. "You got some balls, kid, you know that? Why the hell did you think you could just light out?"

I shrug, but don't answer.

"Look at me, 'cause I ain't telling you again. And if you don't start talkin', I start smackin', you got that?" Bobby growls.

I look up at Bobby, anger surfacing for the first time. I hate it when he talks like that, like I'm some little kid. Sure, it was dumb. But why does he always make it such a big deal? Do this, don't do this, look at me, answer me, blah, blah, blah.

I shake my head. "I don't know, okay!" I cry out. "I don't know what the hell you think I'm supposed to say. Sorry, I messed up? Look: I know it was stupid, okay? I get it. I'm a stupid shit who messes up all the time, you don't need to remind me!" I almost shout.

Bobby's arm grabs my wrist with no warning, pulling me forward. He grabs his chair from the table, sits down and pulls on my arm hard, bringing me down across his laugh. I let out a small, "ooph" as I hit his legs.

It's awkward and slightly painful. Not as painful as it's going to be, you dumb shit, I think to myself.

"I'm sick of your fucking attitude. You don't get to talk to me that way and you sure as hell don't get to wander around the damn streets because you couldn't sleep!" Bobby's voice is tight.

Now, Bobby cracks his hand down hard on my butt with one hell of a wallop. Shitfire. I grit my teeth, because, you know, there is no way I'm hollering'. Hopefully.

But Bobby only continues to rain down hard, painful swats. I clamp my mouth shut, clenching my right hand in pain. Then I start to squirm on my brother's lap, hoping to move, but Bobby's left arm anchors me over his knee. I hate feeling helpless. Then Bobby lands a particularly scalding swat and I can't help but gasp.

He continues with his painful and fast pace. Then, Bobby pushes me forward slightly, beginning a new trail of burning pain to the lower half of my ass.

"OW! Bobby, stop!" I holler, jerking up violently to avoid his stinging hand. My ass hurts like hell. Burning, fiery hell.

"Why'd you think you could go sneaking off?" Bobby sounds just as angry as before and doesn't stop spanking.

"I—OW! I don't know! I just was bored and–OW! Bobby, stop!"

"You gonna do that again?"

I try to find my voice, try to say something, but I can't force it out between the sobs overtaking me.

"You don't answer, I don't stop smacking." Bobby's voice rises slightly.

"N-noooo!" I cry. "Sorry. So so-rryyy!"

He lands a few more, memorable swats before pulling me up and onto his lap, braking from the punishment. Thank God. And I sob, a lot. And Bobby pulls me close, gripping my back tightly as I sit on his knees getting his shirt wet. I hate feeling like a five year old, getting smacked, getting yelled at but. But for once, I appreciate the comfort of hugging my older brother. I need it.

Bobby rubs comforting circles into my back, speaking quietly. "Okay, kid. It's okay. No one's killing ya."

I nod, pulling back slightly. "I'm sorry Bobby. I was stupid."

"Hey." He grabs my chin, pulling my face to look at him. He isn't mad, but serious. "You're not stupid. You just don't think. You gotta think, kid. I don't care if you're bored, scared, hell, stoned. What you did was stupid. Don't do it again, eh?" He smiles.

I nod again, swiping my nose with my sleeve.

Bobby gives my shoulder a final squeeze before pulling me off his lap to stand. He stands as well and I finally notice that Jack isn't there. He must have left while I, well, you know. I color slightly, rubbing the sting from my butt.

Bobby laughs quietly, giving me a push towards the living room. "Get your ass to bed. And stay there this time?"

I smile, "Yeah."

Then I make my way back upstairs, because nothing says 'I just got my ass handed to me' quite like walking back up past all your brothers. Jack meets me hallway down, giving my shoulder a quick squeeze and me a sympathetic smile. Yep, it was deserved, but still. And then there's Angel.

If looks could kill, I'd be six feet under. But I just give him a shit-eating grin before jumping through my bedroom door, careful to keep my ass away from his big mitts. Sorry, old pal. He just gives me a flinty stare and keeps his arms crosses. But hell, tonight wasn't bad at all.

Mostly.

**End.**

**Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought and if you think I should write another story for Four Brothers; I have some ideas.**


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